#mouse
Four mice burrow
Four mice hunt
Three mice come back
The last with no luck—
One mouse eaten
Three mice safe
Three mice scurrying to get far away
Three mice burrow
One mouse halts
One mouse returns
The last being at fault
One mouse fallen
Two mice safe
Two mice padding, shaking their worries away
Two mice burrow
Two mice stay
A vulture swoops by the den
Holding the mouse that had gone astray
One mouse cowers
One mouse braves
One mouse is taken away, for the vulture's play
One mouse left
Three mice gone
One mouse burrows until their paws are raw—
Because in reality, life isn't fair to any faults.
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 11:12 AM UTC
It's winter
and in my heart
there is a
mouse in the walls
I can hear it
chewing at frayed edges
gathering straw
scratching at the foundation
hiding in the fringe
I know it's there
but
I
can't
quite
see
it.
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 1:44 AM UTC
Nothing, I want nothing
From you, except the truth
I am waiting at the booth
Come out clean with something
Better. I honestly want to hear
The truth. Stop the lies here
This is too much. Be forthcoming
I am tired of all the lies
Bring me the pies and the fries
Stop talking. Start singing
So I can rest and feel better
Liars can be highly creative
Cowards can be destructive
Nobody is a brainless sucker
This is neither a game, nor a hoax
You're caught in the hooks
Like many kleptomaniacal crooks
Things are clear and obvious, folks
You can fool a few
Not everybody in the wide house
Because you're a big mouse
You will get caught. You can *****
A few. You can lie all you want
You can rant, sing and chant
All you want, you can only fool
A few drowning in the pool
Everyone is watching, nobody is stupid
Go ahead, curse, argue and plead
The truth will come out very soon
Yes, you were looking for a boon
For a quid pro quo, for something
Yes, you were looking for anything
Quit bloviating for no reason
This is a new era, a new season.
Copyright © November,2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 7:02 PM UTC
Who is this person that I’m living alongside;
I don’t mean my girl; I mean myself.
Is there an alter with impeccable timing to hide;
a thought I think and feeling I’ve always felt.
She digs her hands into my armored flesh,
the areas I reassured could pass each test.
Instead of titanium she sees it’s made of mesh,
“I’m sorry that I’m not the best of best.”
We watched our house burn down
watched the last ember hit the ground.
I place missing posters of myself around town;
truth is I don’t care if I get found.
“A pox on your house,
you ****** knockout mouse.”
On your clean white blouse;
gasoline has been doused.
I wrongly take the blame,
and they keep saying it’s my name.
Isn’t it a shame how bad blood boils all the same?
Sometimes I feel like I’m presented as an open book,
with torn out pages and a cracked spine.
On full display but no one even stops to take a look,
missing the hidden message in each line.
We shoot the **** so incredibly breezily
but I’m reminded that I bruise very easily,
so I find a way to tap out without anyone noticing.
But it’s done just too feebly.
Burned bridges and scorched earth,
my decision to cover with AstroTurf.
Taking lives instead of giving birth,
and I’ll only strive to make it worse.
“A pox on your house,
you ****** knockout mouse.”
“The screams and the shouts
show us what you’re about.”
The beast I try to tame,
but can hardly even maim.
Isn’t it a shame how bad blood boils all the same?
I have this habit of never learning my lesson
and sometimes almost crashing my car.
It’d be tragic or it could be a hidden blessin’
what’s another addition of a scar?
“A pox on your house,
you ****** knockout mouse”
“We’ll turn you into scouse,
you ****** knockout mouse.”
“A pox on your house,
but not on your spouse.”
At least they aren’t that rouse.
“A pox on your house,
you ****** knockout mouse.”
On your clean white blouse;
gasoline has been doused.
I wrongly take the blame,
and they keep saying it’s my name.
Isn’t it a shame how bad blood boils all the same?
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 3:47 PM UTC
A
Mouse
Lived on a windowsill,
In
Our old house,
A
Little Mouse,
Hoodie and all,
“Oi, soft lad,
You want a brawl?”
I saw a Mouse,
Where?
There on the sill,
Right there!
A little Mouse,
Hoodie and all,
“Oi, soft lad,
You want a brawl?”
Oh man!
If only I lived
In
old Amsterdam.
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 4:28 AM UTC
The cats suspect that there’s a mouse
I think at first, a catnip toy…
The black cat sees the toy and grins…
And bats a mouse that rolls, then runs… then rolls again… and then
they run
Behind a chair… The cat appears… and there’s the mouse,
He has it hanging from his mouth,
He puts it down… he has it pinned…
And then I see it run again.
I’m kind of sorry for the mouse, but after, all this is our house,
And cats see mice as natural prey. They really should just stay away
And learn to cope with life outside. But since it pressed its luck
within,
I’m rooting for our cat to win.
Another chase, another pin… completely still…is this the end?
Well, no… he lets it go again.
The mouse heads for the cellar door, there’s safety on the basement floor
A blocking move! As good as dead? Another joke…the mouse has
fled.
The cats give chase, but that’s the end. The mouse is hiding out again.
I notice that no blood’s been shed. Perhaps because the cat’s well fed,
The claws that tear cat toys to shreds have not appeared to slash his
prey.
I guess that’s for another day, the drama here was just some play,
But now the traps are on the way.
Dec 27, 2024
Dec 27, 2024 at 9:38 AM UTC
In the dark typhoon, swayed a dark dark house.
In the dark monsoon, flew the dark dark mouse.
Below dark dark clouds, people scream and shout,
And by the 12th hour, noon, is when the Sun comes out.
In the light, you see rubble, and the people all dead.
On a tree that had fallen, lies a small mouse head.
Through the wind left behind, you hear what the house said
As its boards were all torn from beneath its beds.
You hear the creaking and wailing of nails, screws, and springs
Which escape from their places, among other things.
They escape through the windows, and break their panes too,
And as the whistling fell silent,
All left now,
Is you.
Oct 17, 2024
Oct 17, 2024 at 3:23 PM UTC
among all the fears there sleeps a bear
who’s paws are soft and hair is fair
afraid to wake and arouse a tear
there sleeps a mouse by claws so near
between the two there’s an open space
where chivalry and strength find a place
among hope and a dream it will lay
till mice find courage and get away
Sep 22, 2024
Sep 22, 2024 at 12:33 PM UTC
The past
always seems
To chase after us
When I choose to lie
I've learned to never
Let it go any further
If I know
I did something
That I'm accused of
I confess
I don't want to play
Cat and mouse
Delaying the inevitable
Is the worst game
You can play
And never win
If I did it
Then I did it
And that's all
There is to it
Apr 23, 2022
Apr 23, 2022 at 1:54 AM UTC
'Twas brillig, when the wee sleek beasty
Did gyre and gimble in my fields
And ach! I feel but naught, but sadness
Plowing his home and stealing his meals
Jun 3, 2021
Jun 3, 2021 at 9:43 PM UTC
black cats hunting mice
on a concrete alley --
night sight revealed
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 6:56 AM UTC
he was more of a friend than a pet
a modest, ugly thing
with three souls bound by skin & fur
i’ve never known a mouse to be a functional addict
and i’ve known a mouse or two
he monologued with clever prose
about the impermanence of materialism
and with a deep, angry, disappointment
whenever he saw an empty parking lot
and with reverence regarding the flower that grows through asphalt
you could call the thimbles of ******* he travelled with
cute
most times i listened to him in
silence
when the air was right i would speak as he spoke
identically
he was more of a brother now that i think about it
a shy, talkative sibling
who gave his heart away as quickly as he could
i’ve never known a mouse that cared so much for the world
and so little for himself
Mar 9, 2021
Mar 9, 2021 at 5:23 PM UTC
🐭🧀
I am a mouse tempted by scent of cheese,
I am a little lever,
by wightish weight released.
I am the
daring
domino,
Tip me over and off I go,
Tapping-time-toppling
just as mapped,
Chain reactions
crashing
choreographed.
I am the ball bearing on its
tilted track,
Precariously poised
awaiting that last flat
CRACK!
Startling astart at starting gun,
Gravity-well-willing I wobblingly spin-roll-run,
Back and forth I wander like a top,
Dizzily confused when off the end I
plop.
It's alright, everyone, I'm okay,
This cup was here to catch me... luckily.
Ah, I'm the cup too, of course,
Rattling 'round rampant without remorse.
It's not a problem, I've already served my purpose,
Ball-bearing-brained, I was useful for impetus.
Downward-driven delivering incidental dues,
I am now the toy robot set off on a cruise,
Wheels turning, less one brain (lest I hurt myself)
Wound-up tight only to travel the length of a shelf.
Gears ground, I spark-stumble-halt,
I've kicked the bucket, but it's nobodies fault:
I'm also the water cascading through air,
Splashing happily,
but predictably,
to be fair.
Sloppily graceful I stick the landing,
Releasing the cage, design-demanding.
Mouse
lever
domino
ball
cup
robot
water
cage
I might even be the little mouse's tiny outrage.
It seems I was all the pieces of the trap I set,
Honestly, everything fits just fine, except:
We seem to be missing one of the architects.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 1:02 AM UTC
i live in a brightness
of worlds
paper-thin
a screenshot of
malleability
introduces my reckoning
today, the serpent
lays hold of
the egg
and starvation
is kept at bay
belly full
cut the cord
the descendants
hang heavy
all my life i've wanted
a reason to
die well
tonight, I hear it
in the sirens...
I hear it
in the coyotes...
I hear it
in my soul...
tonight, I hear it
in plain sight--
as clear
as a daisy
i was allowed
to slow down
to see my life
in a different gear
to venture a guess
towards life in payment
of a different path
i was
hungry
and hung-up
i was held-up
with my pants
down
i was a man
living his life
in the modern
mouse-trap
and nobody
cares about the
man in the
modern
mouse-trap
forget about the
cheese...
find your
own way
out
Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 10:06 PM UTC
****** Most Fowl!
by Michael R. Burch
****** most foul!”
cried the mouse to the owl.
“Friend, I’m no sinner;
you’re merely my dinner!”
the wise owl replied
as the tasty snack died.
Published by Lighten Up Online and Potcake Chapbooks
NOTE: In an attempt to demonstrate that not all couplets are heroic, I have created a series of poems called “Less Heroic Couplets.” I believe even poets should abide by truth-in-advertising laws! This poem also questions who the "original sinner" was. How was it not the Creator, if such a being exists, since owls are forced by nature to ****** innocent mice and other prey animals? Is it possible that the Creator is not so heroic either? Keywords/Tags: Death, Nature, Rhyme, Pain, Creator, Predator, Prey, Mouse, Owl
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 1:04 AM UTC
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse with his side kick Ernest Penfold, the nerdy hamster,
The per defeat their arch enemy Baron Silas Von Greenback,
Week after week, Danger Mouse and Ernest Penfold save the world,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all.
Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 12:58 PM UTC
To a Mouse
by Robert Burns
translation/modernization/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast,
Why’s such panic in your breast?
Why dash away, so quick, so rash,
In a frenzied flash
When I would be loath to run after you
With a murderous plowstaff!
I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
And justifies that bad opinion
Which makes you startle,
When I’m your poor, earth-bound companion
And fellow mortal!
I have no doubt you sometimes thieve;
What of it, friend? You too must live!
A random corn-ear in a shock's
A small behest; it-
‘ll give me a blessing to know such a loss;
I’ll never miss it!
Your tiny house lies in a ruin,
Its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn!
Now nothing’s left to construct you a new one
Of mosses green
Since bleak December’s winds, ensuing,
Blow fast and keen!
You saw your fields laid bare and waste
With weary winter closing fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! The cruel iron ploughshare passed
Straight through your cell!
That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble
Had cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you’re turned out, for all your trouble,
Less house and hold,
To endure the winter’s icy dribble
And hoarfrosts cold!
But mouse-friend, you are not alone
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes of Mice and Men
Go oft awry,
And leave us only grief and pain,
For promised joy!
Still, friend, you’re blessed compared with me!
Only present dangers make you flee:
But, ouch!, behind me I can see
Grim prospects drear!
While forward-looking seers, we
Humans guess and fear!
Published by the English department of St. John’s College High School. Excerpted in an essay by Galkina Karolina, Institute of Humanities, Borys Grinchenko Kyiv University, Ukraine, and published on the university’s website. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, mouse, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, schemes, mice, men, agley, awry, nature, field, plow, den, home, modern English
Hugh MacDiarmid wrote "The Watergaw" in a Scots dialect. I have translated the poem into modern English to make it easier to read and understand. A watergaw is a fragmentary rainbow.
The Watergaw
by Hugh MacDiarmid
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season
I saw the uncanniest thing—
a watergaw with its wavering light
shining beyond the wild downpour of rain ...
and I thought of the last wild look that you gave
when you knew you were destined for the grave.
There was no light in the skylark's nest
that night—no—nor any in mine;
but now often I've thought of that foolish light
and of these more foolish hearts of men ...
and I think that maybe at last I ken
what your look meant then.
Keywords/Tags: Scotland, Scot, Scottish, Scots dialect, night, nightfall, rain, grave, death, death of a friend, light, lights, watergaw, heart, heartache, broken heart, heart song
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 9:41 PM UTC
Eyes like fire, burning with hunger
She has found her prey in you
Run from her or fight her
You stand no chance,
you are hers.
Body lithe, rigid, focused
She will toy with you
You are powerless in this game
The cat will catch the mouse
and the mouse will submit.
She barely moves, she is confident
You can't escape
She will do as she pleases with you
That is her purpose, her role,
she loves this play.
If you fight her, she grows bored, dull
You don't want that
Her fire excites you, sparks a fear
Fear that sparks a pleasure deep inside,
you do as she bids you.
Pretty little thing, she purrs
Her claws long, her teeth glinting with fresh desire
Her eyes even more so
She wants to taste your pure, soft flesh,
and she will.
She cares little for the aftermath
You are spent, she has just begun
Finished with her prey, her ego craves yet more
The game is won, she is the victor,
time to find another mouse.
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 9:46 AM UTC
the mouse started off like any ordinary mouse
annoying, small, and persistent.
the nymph tried to take good care of him, and he was treasured to her.
the mouse came limping back to her, after his daily battle with the world
she nursed him back to health
as the nymph cared more for the little mouse, she spurted out pellets of blood and flowers
the mouse tried to stop her
but it was too late.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 2:11 AM UTC
The anxious Toddler,
***** her right thumb;
The News has just ended,
and soon they will come.
~
But they will not lay down,
'neath her Mickey Mouse sheets;
They'll take her pure innocence,
and she'll get no sleep.
~
The things that are done,
to this Child of five;
Will stay with this wee one,
for the rest of her life.
~
When they are finished,
having her their own way;
She hugs the pink walls,
feeling ***** and ashamed,
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC
The rain is falling down the winter sky
the fog is wrapped like moss around the house
a fire is burning in the stove and I
am curled up in my hole, an elder mouse
who's seen the wars and lived to tell the tale
who's belled the cat and stolen all the cheese
who's climbed the stair and slid down on the rail
who's lived through summer's heat and autumn's freeze.
That is the past, for now the days are warm
even in this winter-time of life
although I'd take the snows to rainy storms,
for burrowing beneath avoids the strife
of dodging hawks and cats, and also owls
but in the sky the future softly growls.
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 12:24 AM UTC
You're the light to my darkness,
I'm the darkness to your light,
A never-ending battle,
Our game of cat and mouse.
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 8:56 PM UTC
To end a broken star,
Galaxies twist a turn from afar,
Hearts of lions know where they rest,
Upon the lonely plains,
And to end a place, to dream,
Upon the lilies, resting frogs,
A mouse trapped, stinging bog,
As the bird sings and screams.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 11:23 AM UTC